The poets heart

I am a puppet
without a master
I am the empty shell
emotions fight within
each taking time to wear the mask
I am the mask, they wear me
I have no free will
they each fight for a turn to show
who will I become next
my heart fills with words
they write a story
but, when its my turn to tell it
I crumble for I am many trapped in one
My heart speaks the loudest
But is shy when faced with the fight for freedom